2013-05-05

Lani waited
for the boat to sail away before she went home. It had touched the island’s
shore, the flames had gone out, but she had not seen who was on it or what they
did. She glanced at the memories on the sand dune, the cliff. Reflections of
shadow through glass.

She stood
in her doorway, feeling like one made of sticks—stiff and fragile and very
hateful toward fire. Lani paced the shack four times, noting idly that she
needed new flowers. Without further thought, she slipped into the sweet evening
air. It was getting so cool, so quickly now.

It was
night before she made it to the center of the island where the jasmine bloomed.
She’d never brought Caspian there and it was free from shadows. Her practiced
hands plucked the flowers, but her old, mad peace was gone. The island queen
was unsettled.

“So this is
why you always smell of jasmine,” a deep voice spoke from behind her, back the
way she’s come. Lani whirled, spraying jasmine petals in a wide circle.

“But you
left!”

Caspian
sighed, “I tried to.” He stalked toward her, long strides that no longer
stumbled in the fine sand. “But then I realized, you’re my lighthouse, Lani. I
wouldn’t make it without you.”

“What makes
you think that?’ Lani asked, but she was teasing. Her eyes sparkled and flirted
now that she allowed them to. Caspian scooped her close, looking down on her
with a smirk.

“Because
it’s impossible.”

“Oh,” Lani
nodded in understanding, but Caspian was very talkative and could not contain
himself.

“I’ve never
seen anything so clearly as when I’m with you, even the shadowy things.”